


The Boy Who Was There

by MidnightHalo27



Series: The Man Who Wasn't There [2]
Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Mental Health Issues, Not compliant with The Copper Gauntlet, Spoilers for The Bronze Key, depictions of mental illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightHalo27/pseuds/MidnightHalo27
Summary: Call grits his teeth. “So what? I should just sit by and do nothing while Aaron gets worse? I can’t. I just can’t. If there’s even a small chance that I might be able to help, I’ll take it.”“What if I offer you another option? Something that could help Aaron without exposing you as Constantine?”“I don’t think there’s anything that –”“Help me get rid of Joseph.”Or:In which Aaron gets worse, so Call takes matters into his own hands, with the help of an unexpected ally.
Series: The Man Who Wasn't There [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/959214
Comments: 20
Kudos: 31





	The Boy Who Was There

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey, guys! This is the sequel to "The Man Who Wasn't There". Technically, you can understand this fic without reading the other first, but I would recommend that you read it.
> 
> Warning: This fic contains mental health issues and depictions of mental illness.
> 
> This fic takes place in the beginning of the Copper Year. It is not compliant with The Copper Gauntlet.
> 
> Spoiler alert for a plot twist of The Bronze Key.
> 
> I also published this fic on fanfiction.net (username: GakuenAlicefan27).
> 
> The series will probably have one more fic to take place after this one.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Magisterium book series belongs to Cassandra Clare and Holly Black, not me.
> 
> I hope you like it! Reviews, kudos, etc are great! Constructive criticism is very welcome, but flames will be used to roast marshmallows.

Aaron is not okay.

He keeps saying that he is, but Call and Tamara don’t believe him anymore.

~x~

“Please, talk to Master Rufus about it.” Tamara begs, but Aaron shakes his head.

“There’s no need.” He says, even though he looks like death has wormed over. He is pale, with deep shadows around his eyes, and Call knows he hasn’t slept properly in a while.

“There are two possibilities for what’s going on.” Call says, voice way steadier than he’s feeling. “Either Constantine is attacking your mind and causing hallucinations, or the stress is getting to you and screwing with your mental health. Both of these are things that Master Rufus should know about.”

“I’m the makar.” Aaron says, his hands trembling slightly. “I’m their only hope in this war. If people find out that something’s wrong with me, they’re gonna be afraid.”

“You can barely stand straight, Aaron.” Tamara says, softly. “People are already starting to notice.”

Aaron winces, and Call almost opens his mouth to tell him: _It’s me. I’m Constantine. He’s not coming for you. He never will. I’m not doing anything to cause this. I swear to you, I’d never hurt you._

_I swear._

But he can’t. He can’t bring himself to say anything, and it’s killing him inside. It’s a paradox. How does someone tell one of their best friends that they have the soul of the villain he’s being trained to fight? How does one keep quiet and live with the guilt?

“We’ve already looked into every book we could find and tried every protection we could use.” He says. “The Masters are more powerful, and have more knowledge. They could help.”

“And if they can’t?” Aaron asks. “What if there’s no one to protect me from? What if it’s just me?”

“You’re thirteen” Tamara says. “And they’re putting a lot on your shoulders. No one can blame you. They could find you someone to talk to; a therapist or a psychologist. Needing help doesn’t make you weak.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything. Tamara closes her hand, pressing the nails against her palm. She looks as if she’s about to cry. “And if,” She swallows with difficulty. “If you keep on insisting on not telling them, we’ll do it instead.”

Aaron stiffens. He looks from one of them to the other, betrayal written all across his face. “You wouldn’t.”

Call covers his face with his hands. He feels like crying too. “You’re scaring us half to death, Aaron. We’d rather have you alive and hating us than lose you to this.”

Aaron deflates. He looks as if he’s being haunted; and he is, they just don’t know what by.

“Please.” Call says.

A tense moment follows, and Aaron nods.

~x~

They tell Master Rufus, and Call can physically feel how disappointed he is that they didn’t talk to him sooner. And beneath it, the hurt and the worry, so acute that Call would rather the disappointment be the only thing there.

Master Rufus confers with the other masters, who all but build a task force dedicated to finding out what is wrong.

They try to keep it a secret, but it gets out, and some people do look afraid, but most of them just look at Aaron with pity, as though they already have a grave with his name on it right next to Verity Torres’, and that makes it so much worse.

They try protection amulets. They try shielding charms. They try spells so advanced they need five different masters to cast them. Nothing works. The closer they get to helping is by giving Aaron potions to sleep before he keels over.

Master Rufus tries to teach Aaron meditation techniques, and it actually helps a bit, but it’s not enough.

None if it is enough.

~x~

Call is gonna have to be enough.

He had hoped that talking to the masters would help, but it didn’t. He had hoped that time would make things better, but it didn’t. He had hoped that some miracle would happen, but it hadn’t.

Aaron has had to be taken to the infirmary twice in the last two weeks. Call can’t take this any longer. If there’s the slightest chance that telling him the truth will help, he will do it. Even if Aaron hates him forever, or Call ends up in jail for the rest of his life, if it means that Aaron will get better, Call will do it.

He will tell him, he thinks, as he touches his forehead to the cool wall next to the entrance to the infirmary. He just needs a moment to take a deep breath before it all comes tumbling down.

“You do not look very well.” Says a voice from behind him.

Call turns, startled to find a woman standing right behind him. Her grey hair is tied up in a stylish bun and she is wearing Assembly robes. Call almost doesn’t recognize her, but then he remembers bumping into her before, at the Rajavis’ party, and that she came to pick Alex up from The Gables before the school year began. What was her name? Anneliese? Anastasia? Annamarie?

He coughs to clear his throat, embarrassed. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

Call hunches over. “It’s been hard, is all.” He says, kind of hoping that she’ll drop it and leave him alone.

“It’s somewhat late for visiting your friend in the infirmary.” She says.

He avoids her eyes. “I just wanted to talk to him real fast. About some homework.”

She hums. “Not about you being Constantine, then?”

Call freezes. Blood rushes to his ears. “W-what?”

Her eyes soften. “You don’t need to be scared. I have no intention of telling anyone, and I’ve made sure no one can listen in on this conversation either.”

“No.” He says, almost stumbling over the word. “You h-have it wrong, I-”

“I know Joseph told you the truth many months ago. But it’s okay. I’m on your side.”

Call blanches. “You’re working for Master Joseph.”

Her expression darkens. “No, definitely not. Though it is to my benefit that he believes me to be.” She looks at him carefully. “Like I said, I’m on your side. But you haven’t answered my question. Are you planning on telling Mr. Stewart the truth?”

He tenses. “Why should I answer you?”

“If you truly believe it to be for the best, I will not stop you.” She says. “But I would like a minute to try and convince you otherwise.”

Call scoffs. “Right.”

“One minute. All you have to do is listen.”

His eyes narrow. “Talk then.” He says. At the very least, he can buy himself some time to come up with a way to give her the slip.

“You believe that coming clean to your friend will improve his health, for he will not need to fear Constantine any longer.” She looked at him with serene eyes. “But what if you are a wrong?”

Call glares at her and crosses his arms, unimpressed. If this is her idea of manipulation, it’s sorely lacking.

“If Joseph is the one doing this to him, then your confession will not help him at all. And don’t say that it’s unlikely to be Joseph just because the masters haven’t been able to stop it.” Her eyes harden. “A madman he may be, but a powerful one.”

She shakes her head then, as if her thoughts are going down a rabbit hole she doesn’t want them to. “And if your friend’s ill-health is due to stress or something like it, what makes you think that telling him the truth will help anything?”

“He won’t need to live in fear that…”

“Will he not? Even if you would never raise a finger against him, that doesn’t mean Joseph won’t. With or without Constantine, there’s still an army for him to fight. That, of course, talking about the best case scenario, in which he believes that you mean him no harm. You must not forget that it is just as probable that he will never trust you again. Even if, by some miracle, he keeps your secret, he still might spend the rest of his life being paranoid about you being nearby. And trust me, a life of sleeping with an eye open does not help anyone’s mental health.”

Call grits his teeth. “So what? I should just sit by and do nothing while Aaron gets worse? I can’t. I just can’t. If there’s even a small chance that I might be able to help, I’ll take it.”

“What if I offer you another option? Something that could help Aaron without exposing you as Constantine?”

“I don’t think there’s anything that –”

“Help me get rid of Joseph.”

Call splutters, staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know where Joseph is. Help me get rid of him. If he is out of the picture, his army of chaos-ridden will lose its unity and be much easier to defeat. His human followers will disband. It will be easy, then, to fake Constantine’s death and basically put an end to this all.”

“You must be insane.” Call whispers.

“If Joseph is the one responsible for this, it will stop with his death. And if not, the belief that Constantine and Joseph are dead will help take the pressure off your friend.” She cocks her head at him. “And you will be able to stop worrying about Joseph coming for you as well.”

“And what do you gain from that? Or am I supposed to believe that you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

“I hate Joseph.” She says, simply. “I want him dead.”

“But you’re working for him.”

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer. If he thinks I’m under his thumb, he will not see me as a threat, and I also gain useful information.”

Call stares at her. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that. Why do you hate him?”

She stays quiet for a moment, and Call thinks she is not gonna answer, but then she says: “I had two sons, and Joseph took them from me. One died, and I believed the other one to be dead as well. But now, I’ve found out that things weren’t quite what they seemed, and there might be a second chance for my son after all.” She looks away, her jaw stiff. “But only if I can stop Joseph from getting his hands on him again.”

“Should I just take your word for that?”

“You can choose to believe me or not, but my word is, indeed, all I have to offer.”

Call looks to one side, then the other, then that one side again; anywhere as long as he’s not looking her in the eyes. “Why do you need me for that anyway? I’m thirteen, and not even a makar.”

“I do not need you to kill Joseph. I can do it on my own. But for that, I need him to have more trust in me than he does now, so I can gain access to his central of command. If I bring you to him, it will be proof of my supposed loyalty.” She looks at him with a strange glint in her eyes. “And do not sell yourself short, Callum Hunt. You did wondrous things once upon a time, and just because you’ve forgotten them, doesn’t mean you’re not capable of them anymore.”

“I’ll never be The Enemy of Death again.” Call hisses.

She smiles. For a strange reason, she seems almost proud. “That is good to hear.”

Call narrows his eyes. He doesn’t trust her. Not one bit. But this is not about trusting her; it’s about taking a risk. It’s about Aaron, and how Call would do anything to see him well again.

And deep down, Call knows, it’s about his father too. His father, who was so scared of him he was gonna imprison him; his father, whom he hasn’t talked to since he ran away from home.

If Call did all this, maybe it would prove to Alastair that he isn’t evil.

Maybe it would prove it to himself.

He draws back his shoulders. “Deal.”

She – her name is Anastasia, he remembers it now – looks pleased. “Give me a week to arrange things and then we can go.”

~x~

It doesn’t take her a week. Four days later, Call finds a note on his bed (how the hell did she get into his bedroom?), short and to the point, with a time (a quarter to eleven), a location (the first corridor to the left of the library) and the warning not to pack, because the masters can’t know that he left the Magisterium willingly (what). No signature.

He eyes Miri, lying on his bedside table, and after a moment’s consideration decides to take it with him. He can always say he doesn’t go anywhere without it.

~x~

Fifteen minutes before the appointed time, Call leaves his group’s chambers with quiet steps so as not to wake Tamara (Aaron is in the infirmary again. Havoc is keeping him company).

It’s late enough that all the students are in their chambers, and he only has to hide from one master on his way.

He arrives at the meeting point with minutes to spare, but Anastasia is already there. Unlike him, she has packed a side bag. Also unlike him, she doesn’t seem nervous at all.

She smiles when she sees him. “All ready?”

Call nods.

“Very well. Follow me, then.” She says, turning around.

She walks fast, and Call makes an effort to keep up. His steps are not half as silent as hers.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“Maine.”

“Maine?” Call splutters.

“It’s where Joseph is based.”

“I’ve never been anywhere further than Georgia, and even so it was only because dad needed to deliver a car to a client.”

“Well,” Anastasia smiles. “Do not count on having much time for sightseeing.”

“Haha.” Call mutters. “How are we getting there?”

“By air elemental.”

Call stops. “Really?” He asks, astonished.

“Yes. Joseph sent one; it should be waiting for us in the forest.”

“Why an air elemental? I mean, surely there are more discreet ways of travelling?”

“More discreet, yes, but nothing half as efficient. Cars are far too slow, and planes are out of the question: I can’t take you out of state without being your guardian, and even if I had the time to forge IDs for us, the airports have cameras the Magisterium could hack into.”

She says _forge IDs_ so casually, as if it’s an easy thing, and Call doesn’t know what to think of that.

“But first, take that.” She hands him a little rock, rough and gray and completely unremarkable.

“A rock?” Call says, dubiously.

“Keep it with you at all times. It will protect you from tracking spells.”

Call’s eyebrows rise.

“Now, let us go. Time is of the essence.” She says.

“Why?” Call says, pocketing the rock. “I mean, I want to get this over with as soon as possible, but why are you in such a hurry?”

“Your father is about to make an unwise choice.”

Call stops in his tracks. “What?” He can already hear his heart beating inside his eardrums.

“I’ll tell you once we’re outside.” She says.

“Why didn’t you tell me the other day?” He hisses.

“Because I didn’t know.” She checks for guards in a bifurcation in the corridor. “I only found out this morning, hence why I decided we had to leave today rather than taking more time to prepare.”

Suddenly, she turns to the right, swift as a cat. For a moment, Call just stands there, but then he hears voices coming from the left and hurries after her.

~x~

Getting out of the Magisterium is, like always, ridiculously easy. Call knows, from hearing the masters talk, that security has been upgraded now that they have a makar to protect: there are spells guarding certain rooms, traps in strategic places, and people patrolling the corridors.

Still, apart from that time in the bifurcation, they breeze past without a single problem. He figures Anastasia, as a high ranking member of the Assembly, must have access to privileged information regarding the security measures; knowledge of what places to avoid, and the time of the patrols.

She takes a turn down an unfamiliar corridor, and Call frowns. “Is this a shortcut to the Mission Gate?”

A shake of head. “The Mission Gate is heavily locked now.”

“Can’t you unlock it?” He asks, remembering her prowess with metals at the Rajavis’ party.

“I could, but not quickly. We might get caught.”

“Where are we going then?”

“You’ll see.”

Call nods, but he can’t help thinking that it would be nice if Havoc was there, just to bite Anastasia’s face off if she betrays him.

~x~

They stop in an ample room Call has never been to before.

It’s nowhere near as big as the amphitheater, but it’s bigger than their usual classrooms. On one wall, there’s something that looks like a waterfall, except it’s made of fire (firefall?), and it seems that the flames never really hit the ground, disappearing in a smoky swirl near the floor. It has comfortable looking sofas and shelves upon shelves with games, and Call thinks this might be one of the lounge rooms that the Golden Years have to themselves.

Anastasia nods to the firefall and says: “Through there.”

“No, thanks.”

A brief smile, which is a surprise. Normally, adults don’t have this much patience with him. He wonders if it’s because she’s aware that he’s Constantine. “It’s an illusion, Call. There’s no fire at all; it’s hiding a passage.”

Call frowns. He can feel the heat all the way from where he is, and he’s not even that close. “It doesn’t seem like one.”

“I’ll go first then.” Anastasia says, and makes her way to the flames. She disappears right before walking into them.

Call swallows dryly and follows.

~x~

The passage on the other side leads to a long set of stairs. They go up for a while, the way barely illuminated by sparse crystals. When they come out, they’re much farther than where the other gates usually lead to, nearly at the mouth of the forest.

Call turns to look at the spot they came through, but all he sees are rocks covering the space where the hole in the ground should be.

“Another illusion.” Anastasia says.

Call turns to her. “Now tell me what you meant about my father.”

“Do you know what the Alkahest is?”

Call stares blankly at her.

Anastasia sighs. “It’s a magical gauntlet, very old and of incredible power. It was in Joseph’s possession in the last war, and he used it to kill Verity Torres. Ever since, the mages got it back, and it’s been kept at the same hangar where the Iron Trial takes place.”

Call’s heart skips a beat. His mind flashes to the blueprints he saw before running away from his house. “What does my father have to do with this?”

“Joseph wants the Alkahest back, and your father is a very powerful metal mage. With the right type of information, he could break into the hangar and get it for him.”

“My father would never do that. He hates Joseph. He hates –” He bites his tongue before he can say _me_. He doesn’t want Anastasia to know that. He doesn’t want to say it out loud either, as if saying it would definitely make it real.

“Your father loves you.” Anastasia says, and Call almost jumps back, wondering if she’s reading his mind. “He wants to protect you. He believes that if he can gain Joseph’s trust, he may find a way to get rid of him before he can hurt you.”

And Call wants to believe that. He really does. But if he closes his eyes, he can still see the shackles on the wall, what his father did to Havoc and what he almost did to him.

The back of his throat stings, but he ignores it. “And you don’t think he can do it?”

“I think it’s too risky.” She says, checking the contents in her bag and nodding at herself in satisfaction. “Joseph is already powerful enough without the Alkahest. If your father doesn’t manage to stop him, then he’s given him too great a weapon.”

“If my father doesn’t manage to stop Master Joseph,” Call whispers, the realization dawning on him like a bucket of ice being thrown on his head. “Then he’s dead.”

That can’t happen. Under no cirscunstance is Alastair allowed to die. Just like it is with Aaron, Call can live with his hate, but he can’t live with his death.

Anastasia makes an aborted motion with her arm, as if she wants to reach out to him but stops herself in the last second. “This is why we can’t waste time. He’s gonna break into the hangar tonight, and then he’ll make his way to Maine on another air elemental. We have to go now so we can arrive before him.”

“Once we arrive, Joseph will be too distracted with you to pay attention to me. I’ll find him before he finds Joseph, and from then on we can do what we went there to do.”

“But what, exactly, will we do?” Call asks, just as he sees something moving, deep into the forest. Something big and long.

Anastasia follows his gaze and makes an approving noise. “Good, our elemental is here.”

~x~

The elemental, in itself, is only impressive due to its size and length. Other than that, it just really looks like a worm with wings.

A worm with wings that swallows them and takes flight as soon as they get close to it.

“A little warning would have been nice!” Call yells at Anastasia once he’s realized that yes, they are safe and sound in the belly of the elemental rather than being digested.

“But then I wouldn’t have gotten to see your face when the elemental lunged at us.”

“I’m glad I’m such a source of amusement.” Call huffs, still trying to get his bearings. “Wait,” He says, a horrifying thought crossing his mind. “How are we getting out of here? We’re not going, you know, through the other side, are we?”

Anastasia’s lips tremble. “No, we’re gonna be regurgitated.”

“Marvelous.” Call says, slouching down. “And how long till we get there?”

“Two hours, give or take.”

“Okay.” Call takes a deep breath, wishing the nervousness would go away. “You didn’t answer my question before. What are we gonna do to take Joseph down?”

“ _I_ will take Joseph down, and your father will help me, if everything goes according to plan. _You_ will distract Joseph.”

Call glares at Anastasia. “So I’m just supposed to be still and look pretty while you and my father throw yourselves into danger, is that it?”

Anastasia sighs. “Your father and I are adults, Call, and have had a thorough magical training. You are a child, and it’s already bad enough that you’re going to be there at all.” She shakes her head. “Keeping Joseph distracted is a fundamental step towards dealing the blow.” She cocks her head at him. “If it makes you feel better though, it might be that your presence alone will keep the chaos-ridden at bay, and that is a great advantage.”

Call looks down. “I don’t know that it will. Master Joseph has some sort of staff that he uses to control them.”

“And as such, the staff will have to be the first to go. Without it, Joseph’s control over the chaos-ridden will cease.”

For a minute or two, Call doesn’t say anything, then he stares at Anastasia and voices something that has been in his mind for a while.

“Does Alex know about you?”

“Depends.” She says. “If you’re asking if he knows I work for Joseph, yes. If you’re asking if he knows I want Joseph dead, no.”

“What does he think about you working for Master Joseph?”

“He’s working for him himself.”

Call closes his eyes, mouth suddenly dry. “Why?”

Anastasia shrugs. “For the glory, perhaps.” Her eyes sadden. “Maybe just for the attention.”

“Does he know about my being Constantine?”

“Yes.”

Call tries to process all he’s just learned. It feels like this night was just a series of punches to the gut. “Did he know it from the start?”

“Yes.” Anastasia sighs, and then right after: “He was friends with Joseph’s son. The best of friends.”

_And you were involved in his death, so be careful._ She doesn’t say, but she doesn’t need to.

“You never call him Master Joseph.” He says, instead of continuing on the topic.

She stiffens. “No.” She says. “That would imply a respect that I don’t have.”

“I don’t respect him.”

“You do not respect him as a person, but you respect the power he has, and the fact that he is older and a threat to you.”

Or, Call thinks, it is simply that he calls him what everyone else does too. He wonders if Anastasia would have an overanalyzed answer for everything he asked her; if she ever did something without calculating the pros and cons and the variables beforehand.

He hopes so. It sounds like a pretty miserable life otherwise; less like living and more like existing. But then again, it may be that she didn’t want to do more than exist after her children died; he doesn’t know what he would do if he were in her shoes.

“Now,” She says, interrupting his thoughts. “We need to rehearse our story for when we come back.”

To which Call, whose stomach is already turning with what they are doing, asks: “Isn’t it a bit early to be worrying about that?”

She shakes her head. “We might not get a chance to do it later.”

“There might not be a later.”

“There will, if I have anything to say about it.”

~x~

Master Joseph’s lair turns out to be some kind of mausoleum, which Call would find ironic, if he were not busy trying not to have an attack of nerves.

There’s water on all sides, so Call supposes they are in some kind of isle. The place is eerily quiet, even though there’s a cluster of chaos-ridden guarding it.

They look at him and kneel, and Call feels so disgusted that for a fraction of a second he wishes they had attacked instead.

Anastasia lays a gentle hand on his shoulder and steers him to the right, away from a set of doors that Call can make out from far away, something strange hanging from them.

“Where are we going?” He asks, still trying to get the image of the chaos-ridden out of his brain.

“A side entrance.”

“Why not use the main entrance?”

“It’s being guarded by one of Joseph’s atrocious ideas.”

“And we can’t pass?”

“We can.” The disdain in her face is evident. “But there’s no need for you to see such a horrible thing.”

Except it’s already too late. Call has seen it. Just a sillhouete, and he hasn’t computed it yet, but he has seen it.

~x~

Master Joseph is waiting for them in a circular room. On second observation, Call realizes it isn’t really a room, but rather a place where several corridors intersect; a space between spaces. Master Joseph’s expression when he sees Call would make anyone think Christmas has come early.

Call bites his tongue not to say: _“You do remember your son is dead because of me, right?”_

Instead, he just takes a step closer to Anastasia. After all, not even Master Joseph can be stupid enough to think that Call would have suddenly started trusting him out of nowhere.

“I’m here for myself.” He says. “For my safety. I haven’t forgotten the last time I saw you.”

Master Joseph nods, perfectly content. “Wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”

Call grits his teeth, but the other doesn’t see it because he’s turned to Anastasia.

“See? I told you he would listen to you.” He says, making Call frown. He doesn’t understand what silver tongue Master Joseph believes Anastasia has, to have such faith that she would convince him to come.

Anastasia gives a small smile. “Well, you can understand why I was so hesitant to believe it.”

“Of course, of course.” Master Joseph says, clasping his hands together in glee. “But everything will fall into place now.”

“I trust Alastair is on his way then?”

Master Joseph hums. “He should be arriving in an hour or so.”

Anastasia nods. “Very well. Meanwhile, perhaps you should show Call around? And have someone show me where I can find a shower? I’m afraid I’m in dire need of one.”

Joseph calls forth a chaos-ridden and orders him to show Anastasia the way. When she disappears around a corner, he turns to Call. “I know just where to begin.” He says, and Call guesses it can’t be anything good.

Game on.

~x~

He is right. It isn’t anything good. It actually is so far from the realm of good it is laughable.

And the annoying thing is, Call should have known. He should have realized that, if Constantine wanted to bring Jericho back, and if Master Joseph intended on bringing Drew back, then they wouldn’t simply build bodies out of thin air. No, the original bodies had to be kept somewhere, and be in good condition too.

He’d thought this place looked like a mausoleum from the outside, but turns out it really is one. And the thing he’d seen when they arrived, the thing that looked strange…

“Who was that, at the gate?” He asks, the question almost rasped out of him.

“Uhm?” Master Joseph asks, distracted with repositioning a horse statue beside where Drew’s body lies. “At the gate?”

“The head.” Call grits out.

“Oh.” His eyes light up, a direct contrast to Call’s contorting stomach. “Verity, of course.”

Call’s hand spasms, but he keeps it to the side of his body instead of grabbing Miri the way he wants to. It would be no use. Master Joseph is holding the staff; Call is no match against him.

“A delightful idea, wasn’t it?”

Call glares at him. He chuckles.

“Just give it time and you’ll agree with me. There are some things that you simply can’t resist doing.”

Call’s nose twitches. He’s starting to think his staying with Joseph was a bad idea. “Are you the one who’s making Aaron see things then?” He asks, barely keeping his voice level.

“Regretfully, no.” Master Joseph says, looking disappointed. “I realized some things, after our last encounter, and one of them was that you would never willfully come to me if I hurt any of your friends.” He makes a face, as if the thought is a distasteful one. “Not that I believe it will last, of course. Over time, when you become more like yourself again, and realize that he is your enemy, you will see things my way.”

“I live to spite.” Call says, and Master Joseph seems to think this is the funniest thing ever.

He wonders if his father has arrived yet, and if Anastasia has talked to him already. He hadn’t thought it would be like this. He’d worried he’d be too fidgety, that he’d give something away by being nervous.

He hadn’t considered that he’d be so angry his fingers would be itching for him to off Master Joseph himself.

It is no use, he repeats to himself. Master Joseph has the staff. He is taller and stronger than him. He is a full-fledged mage.

“Oh, Constantine.” Master Joseph says. He turns, putting his hand on top of the glass dome covering Constantine’s body. “The more you talk, the more I see you coming back.”

He has the staff, but Call has Miri. He is taller and stronger than Call, but he has his back turned. He is a full-fledged mage, but Call has the element of surprise.

Except Call is not a killer. He is angry, but not a killer. He might even be vicious, but not a killer. He doesn’t want to be.

Master Joseph sighs, still looking at Constantine’s body; the person he sees when he looks at Call. “Your mother is gonna be very happy. Did she tell you about your old self on your way here?

“No.” Call responds, or at least he thinks he does. It seemed like his voice talking, but it must have been on auto-pilot, because he’s in no condition to be saying anything. The words _mother_ and _on your way here_ keep repeating themselves over and over in his head, and he feels the blood rushing in his ears, overriding any other noise; the surprise and the shock joining with the anger.

It’s too much.

So the next thing he knows, he’s grabbed the horse statue and slammed it into Master Joseph’s head, because knocking someone unconscious is not killing, and he’s not sure he could have stopped himself if he tried.

Master Joseph falls, limp like a marionette with the strings cut, the plaster from the broken statue raising a thin puff of white dust.

Call takes the staff from his hand without really looking at him and runs.

~x~

He doesn’t know for sure how long it takes till he runs into Anastasia and his dad; he doesn’t have a clock, and God knows even if he did he wouldn’t have looked at it in the state of mind he’s in.

Eventually though, he turns and finds himself back in the space where he met with Master Joseph when they arrived, and before he can decide what corridor to take, Anastasia and Alastair show up around the bend of the one in front on him, seemingly in the middle of a heated discussion.

He stops, breathing erratically, hands still holding on to the staff. He hadn’t decided what he would do when he came face to face with Anastasia again. Hell, he didn’t even remember deciding to strike Master Joseph.

Anastasia startles when she sees him, eyes going from Call to the staff then to Call again; her eyes assess him from head to toe, checking for injuries. When she doesn’t find any, she sighs in relief.

It is that, more than anything else, that makes Call think that it’s safe to leave the Mother Talk© for another time.

Meanwhile, Alastair has rooted himself in place, mouth still open with whatever he was going to say to Anastasia before he saw him.

“Call,” Anastasia begins.

“I-” He stammers. “I might have dropped the plan, and knocked Master Joseph out, and ran.”

Anastasia doesn’t berate him, however; she merely asks: “Where?”

“A room with bodies.” He points behind him. “That way.”

She takes a dagger out of her boot. “I’ll take care of it.” And she runs in the direction Call pointed at.

“Call,” Alastair says, looking him up and down and basically doing the same injury-check Anastasia had done. He seems surprised that Call is fine. Call himself is surprised he isn’t black and blue; it was the minimum he had expected from this stunt. “You scared the hell out of me.” He breathes out, at last.

He looks at his father with hard eyes. “ _I_ scared the hell out of you? Really? You think I ran from home just for fun?”

Alastair pales. “I-” He begins, stutters, tries again. “I was never going to hurt you, I just…”

“Shackled Havoc.” Call barks. “Tried to shackle me. How did you think I was gonna react? How do you think that looked?”

“I had to do it so I could have the chance to get rid of Master Joseph.” Alastair pleads. “I didn’t know if you-”

“If I were evil?” Call hisses, the intensity of his feelings surprising him. He hadn’t realized he was so angry at his dad. “I am not evil.” He says, feeling his throat burn. “I am not. I’m choosing not to be.”

“Call…” Alastair moves forward, probably to hug him, but he’s still wearing the Alkahest and Call flinches instinctively.

Alastair follows his line of sight and throws it away as if burned.

“Call, I’m so sorry.” He says, looking exhausted and wrung out. “I was wrong. I acted all wrong. But I never meant to make you feel like –” He sighs, puts his hands over his eyes, and Call can see that the tips of the fingers are rosier than the rest, exposed; Alastair doesn’t chew on his nails, but rather on the skin around their corners, peeling off strips. He’s done it ever since Call can remember; it’s one of the very few nervous ticks he managed not to pick up from his dad.

Alastair takes a deep breath. He takes his hands off his eyes and looks at Call. “I love you so much, Call. All these years, all I ever wanted was for you to be safe. You will never need to be afraid of me.”

“Do you promise?” Call whispers.

“I do.” Alastair says. “I’ll never hurt you.”

“I meant the first part.”

Alastair makes a noise that sounds like a sob. “I promise. If you ever believe in anything I say again, believe that I love you.”

Before Call can answer (with what, he doesn’t know), Anastasia returns, blood on her blade.

“It is done.” She says, and to her credit, she doesn’t sound as happy as Call imagines she is at finally putting an end to Master Joseph.

Alastair looks around in worry. “The chaos-ridden…”

“I have the staff.” Call says, even though he doesn’t know if it will be enough.

Anastasia nods. “Call is right. As long as we have the staff, they won’t attack. And even so, more than half of them are loyal to Call anyway.”

“What now then?” Alastair asks.

“Now we get rid of the evidence.” Anastasia says, turning to go back the way she came. “The last thing to do will be to send a message to the Magisterium, but in order to do that we need to move Constantine’s body from where it lies, or they will know he’s been dead for longer than it appears.”

And even though Call really doesn’t want to go there again, he follows.

~x~

Call stands aside as Anastasia uses air magic to move the dome covering Constantine’s body, and then the body itself. After that, Alastair uses earth magic to destroy both the dome and stone dais.

He looks at Drew and tries not to think about how they’ve just killed his father. Then he looks at Jericho and wills himself to feel something, anything, any spark of pain or recognition, but nothing comes. The sadness he’s feeling is detached; the same type that he feels when he thinks of any of the faceless strangers that died in the war.

It’s a horrible thing to think, but he feels more for Verity, who reminds him of Aaron and what could possibly happen to him, than he does for the brother he once upon a time killed.

“Are you okay?” Alastair asks.

Call shrugs, but his eyes go back to the two bodies. “I…they deserve a proper burial.”

For a second, Alastair’s eyes, which had studiously avoided that corner of the room before, flit to Jericho; there’s a world of pain in them. “Yes, they do.”

“That can be arranged.” Anastasia says, softly.

Call shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “So, where are you gonna put Constantine’s body?”

“Anywhere will do.” Anastasia says. “We just needed to get him off the dais.” She lowers him to the ground. “You will need to use the Alkahest on him.” She says, looking at Alastair.

Alastair jumps back as if electrocuted. “Are you sure?”

“It will be more believable.”

Call kind of wants to ask if she’s sure too. After all, this is her son’s body she’s talking about.

Alastair takes a tentative step closer, then another, and then he seems to find his resolve and walks the rest of the way, crouching next to the body. He raises his arm, and sparks shoot up from the gauntlet; then in a swift movement they converge and slash at Constantine.

For an instant, nothing happens. But then there’s a buzzing in Call’s ears, as if he can hear the sea, or maybe a river rushing in, and his entire chest explodes in pain just as a dark mass emerges from Constantine’s ribcage.

He blacks out.

~x~

He wakes up to the unfortunately familiar ceiling of the infirmary, feeling sore all over, and it takes a minute for the events of the last hours to catch up to his tired mind.

He turns his head to the side, but the bed next to him is empty, so that means Aaron must have left the infirmary already. Havoc, on the other hand, is loyally lying at the foot of his bed.

Call grunts, moving to a sitting position, and only then realizes that Alastair and Master Rufus are in the room; Alastair sitting on a chair next to his bedside and dozing off slightly, while Master Rufus is sitting on a chair in the corner and reading some papers.

“Umh,” Call says, still a little groggy.

Alastair startles from his sleep, then looks at Call and seems relieved. Master Rufus smiles slightly, stands up, and moves his chair so that it is also close to Call.

“Hello, Call.” He says.

“Hello, Master Rufus.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

“Understandable, given what happened.” He sighs. “I believe if I still had hair, it would be all white by now.”

“In my defense, it was not my fault.” It so was.

Then he remembers that Anastasia and he were supposedly kidnapped, so he widens his eyes and asks: “Is Anastasia okay?” as earnestly as he can.

“She is. She’s talking to the Assembly right now.”

“What happened?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you remember? From the beginning, if you will.”

Call swallows dry. “I was gonna go see Aaron in the infirmary, to sneak him some candy, but on the way there I was attacked by two people that came out of nowhere.”

“Did you see who they were?”

He shakes his head. “No, they had their faces half covered.”

“Okay, then. What happened after?”

“I tried to defend myself, and yelled for help. Anastasia heard me and came running. She tried to fight them, and then one of the attackers covered my face with a cloth and I passed out almost immediately.” He shifted on the bed.

“The way you were taken is most worrying.” Master Rufus says, looking extremely worried indeed. “We suspected that there was a spy in the Magisterium, but to know that two kidnappers managed to get in and dodge all our security measures in the halls, as well as the guards on patrol…that’s terrifying. It might be that there is even more than one spy.”

One spy, Call thinks, and three liars.

“Anyway,” He says, before he can get lost in that line of thought. “I woke up later, just for a while, and realized I was lying on something strange. Like, it was solid, but had a strange texture.”

“You were inside an elemental.”

“I what?” He asks, hoping that his surprise sounds convincing.

“In the belly of an air elemental. An ingenious mode of transportation, if you ask me.”

“Eeeeewwww.” Call says.

Master Rufus chuckles. “But back to the topic, did you notice anything else?”

“It was dark, but I could see Anastasia was next to me, and both of us were tied down and gagged. After that, I passed out again.”

“When did you wake up for good?”

“After we’d already gotten there, when I was being carried. We were in an isle, I think, and it was hella cold, and there was a bunch of chaos-ridden.” He gulps. “We were taken to this creepy place, full of corridors, and I was trying to memorize the routes we were taking but I got confused.” He adds, making a frustrated face.

“If it makes you feel better, many a Master got lost too.”

Call blinks, feigning bewilderment. “You were there?”

“Of course, how did you think you returned here?”

“I thought dad and Anastasia had gotten us away somehow.”

“They did send a message, but we met them there.”

He looks at his father. “What about the chaos-ridden? Didn’t they attack you?”

“They scattered with Constantine’s death.” Alastair says.

“Death?” He says, making a relieved face. “Thank God.”

“Tell me about Constantine and Master Joseph.” Master Rufus says.

“They took us to them. I mean, they took me to them; Anastasia, they took somewhere else I didn’t see.” He hunches his shoulders. “Constantine wasn’t wearing the mask, but I recognized him because of the scars. Master Joseph wasn’t happy with me, you know, because of Drew. He looked like he wanted to kill me, and I think he would have, if they didn’t need me.”

“How did you know that they needed you?”

“Constantine said. He explained it to me. He was enjoying making me scared.”

Master Rufus closes his eyes for a moment, as if in pain, then opens them again and nods for him to continue.

“He said I was serving as blackmail material, to convince my father to steal the Alkahest.”

Master Rufus looks at Alastair, who looks down, either because he is trying to act ashamed, or because he doesn’t know how to act at all, Call doesn’t know.

“They broke into my house.” His father says. “They had a video of Call bound and gagged, and they told me that if I wanted him to live I would steal the Alkahest for them. They knew it was in the hangar, and they had blueprints of the place.”

“How were they so sure that you would manage?”

Call knows Alastair is not gonna have an answer to that, so he does his best to look scornful and says:

“They weren’t sure of anything. Dad was their best bet because of his talent with metal magic, but if he failed, they were simply going to kill us both and move on to another tactic.”

Master Rufus’ expression darkens. “I see.”

“They took my gag off,” Call says. “And I called them murderers and looked Constantine in the eye and said that he killed my mom and that I hoped Jericho kicked him in the ass if he ever did bring him back.”

Master Rufus raises and eyebrow, but Call doesn’t regret saying it. It sounds like him, and Anastasia had said that the way to make people believe a lie was by including something embarrassing about yourself. In his case, something that would make him look stupid.

“I was angry, and worried about Anastasia and dad, and I ended up making him angry too, so he took me to a room with, well, with dead bodies; Jericho and Drew. And he started ranting about how he had taken good care of his brother’s body, and how he would defeat death and everything would be worth it. I took advantage of the fact that he was distracted and tried to reach for Miri. That was when Anastasia burst in, with my dad in tow.” He looks at Alastair. “How did that happen, anyway?”

“Anastasia broke free of her binds and knocked out her keepers. Then she tried to find you and ran into me and my keepers instead. She brought them down too, then I took the Alkahest and we took off to get to you.”

“What about the actual fight?” Master Rufus asks.

“Uhm, I didn’t take part in much of it, or any of it, to be honest. Dad had the Alkahest, so he took on Constantine, and Anastasia had a wicked blade and took on Master Joseph. I was still trying to grab Miri; it took me a while before I managed. Well, it probably only took a minute or two, but it felt like longer.”

Call hesitates then. He doesn’t have a single doubt that his dad and Anastasia already told their stories, so he’s been keeping things in general terms, trying to leave as many details out as possible so as not to be caught in a lie.

“When I finally got Miri and teared the binds apart…well, I’m a little confused about that part, actually. I was about to join the fight, and then the next thing I know I’m here, waking up in the infirmary. What happened?”

“I hit Constantine with the Alkahest.” Alastair says. “And the moment I did, chaos magic erupted from the wound, and grew out of control; it started bringing the place down. A part of the ceiling fell and got you in the head. You passed out. Anastasia had already killed Joseph by then; he grew distracted when he saw Constantine get hit.”

“And after that?”

Alastair shrugs. “After that, it was a mad dash out of the building. We barely managed to get away before the entire thing came down on us. Then Anastasia contacted the Magisterium and we waited till they arrived.”

“They are really gone, then?”

“They are.” Master Rufus says. “We sent excursions to retrieve the bodies. Mage society is celebrating. Your father is a really popular man right now.”

Alastair makes a face that conveys how much he enjoys that.

“And now, Alastair, I believe we should give Call some time with his friends, lest they find a way to break in through the air vents.”

~x~

Aaron and Tamara descend on him with the force of a bull.

“I…can’t…breathe.” Call says, and they let him go.

“Damn, Call. You had us so worried.” Tamara says.

“Did you even have time to get worried? I arrived back pretty early in the morning, didn’t I?”

“That’s even worse!”

He blinks. “How come?”

“Because we didn’t know.” Aaron says. “You were in mortal danger, and Tamara and I were none the wiser. We could have woken to news of your death.”

“Well, but you didn’t. Everything turned out okay in the end.”

“I thought Master Rufus was gonna have a heart attack.” Tamara says.

“Master Rufus? I almost had a heart attack. I had just gotten out of the infirmary when they brought you in.” Aaron says.

Call studies Aaron. He still has dark bags under his eyes, but his posture seems more relaxed now than it’s been in weeks.

“They’re gone, you know.” He says. “They can’t hurt you now.”

Aaron ducks his head. “I know. I feel like a weight has been dropped off my shoulders. I just wish your dad hadn’t had to do my work.”

“My dad didn’t do your work, Aaron.” Call says, a little anger seeping through. Except it’s not directed at Aaron, but at the Assembly. “You’re a teenager and they tried to turn you into a child soldier. They did the same to Verity, and Master Joseph ended up hanging her head on a door.”

Aaron startles. “What?!”

“Crap, forget I said that. Why the hell did I say that?!”

“Oh, no.” Tamara says, gaping a little. “Now you’re gonna have to tell us what you meant.”

So he does, even though he really doesn’t want to, and watches as Aaron gets paler and paler.

“They’re gone.” He says again, hoping it will have any effect.

Tamara sighs. “Call is right.” She puts a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “What they did was a cruelty of the highest order, but at least they’ll never be able to do something like that again.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And if they were sending you visions, it will stop too.”

Call averts his eyes, remembering his conversation with Master Joseph.

“I don’t think…” Aaron begins, and then stops, reconsidering. “I think, even if the visions stop, I will continue with the breathing exercises and the meditation techniques Master Rufus taught me; they help when I’m stressed.”

“Okay.” Tamara says.

“And I think,” He fiddles with his fingers. “I might see a therapist, but I’m not sure yet.”

“I think that’s good.” Call says.

“Yeah,” Aaron smiles a little, as if he’s relieved at their reaction, as if he was still worried that they would think him weak. It breaks Call’s heart. “I think it’s gonna help.”

~x~

Since Master Amaranth can’t find anything physically wrong with Call, he is let out of the infirmary a day later, after he’s gotten more rest and she’s satisfied that he won’t keel over and die the moment he steps out of her domain.

His being out and about is all Alastair waits for before going back home, but Call accompanies him on the way out.

Once they are outside, and away from prying eyes and prying ears, he asks: “So, what really happened back there? Why did I pass out?”

Alastair sighs. “It is true what I said about the chaos magic erupting from Constantine and bringing the place down, but what I didn’t tell the Masters is that, before that happened, it went straight to _you_ and only then did it start pouring out _from you_ and destroying everything.”

Call swallows. “I was…hit by the chaos magic?”

“You were, and it was one of the scariest moments of my life.”

“But I wasn’t hurt or anything.”

“You weren’t wounded, as far as we could see, but you wouldn’t wake up either.”

Call hunches his shoulders. “Well, I think it’s easy to guess why the chaos magic went to me.”

“But is it still there?”

He stops walking. “What do you mean?”

Alastair stops too. “I mean, maybe the magic wore itself out in Maine,”

Call wrinkles his nose. He doesn’t know much about chaos magic, but even he finds it hard to believe something like that.

“Or maybe it’s still in you.” Alastair resumes.

“You mean I could be a makar?” Call asks, wide-eyed.

“You could.” Alastair agrees, putting a hand on his shoulder. It’s warm and gentle. “I believe you should test it, in the summer, so we can know for sure. But until then,”

“It’s better to lay low and not give the Masters anything that could connect me to Constantine.”

“That too.” Alastair says, gravely. “But what I was gonna say is that you shouldn’t give the Masters any opening to turn you into a soldier. If you truly are a makar, and they find out, they will want to use it. Just because the two biggest enemies are dead doesn’t mean there aren’t followers scattered around who might try something.”

“They might try to make you into a figurehead as well.” Call whispers.

“Ha.” Alastair smiles. “I’d like to see them try.”

Call smiles too.

“Oh, and…” Alastair looks at the ground. “I plan on visiting Jericho’s grave. If you’d like to go too, we could do it after the term finishes.”

That surprises Call. “He did get a grave then?”

“Of course. Anastasia said she would try and arrange it, didn’t she?”

“She did.” And Call doesn’t even want to think about what it must have been like to her, finally burying a son that’s been dead for so many years. “But I thought that, since the building collapsed and all, the bodies would be too damaged.”

Alastair shakes his head. “The domes protected them.”

“That’s good.” Call says. “I’d like to visit the grave then.” Even though he thinks he has no right to.

Alastair nods.

“And dad,”

“What is it?”

Call stops then, hesitant. He had spent the entire previous day thinking about it, and it had been more difficult to decide then he’d thought it would be, but he was still convinced it was the right choice. “I would like to see a therapist, but not a mage one.”

That surprises Alastair. “A therapist.”

“Yeah. Aaron is probably gonna start seeing one, and the more I think about it, the more it seems like it would be good for me too. Of course, my issues are different than his, but…” He stops, trying to think of how to say it. “Well, I’ve got some things to work through.”

Alastair nods sadly. “I’ll talk to the family doctor, see if she recommends anyone. It’d be best if it was a therapist from Luray, so you could go during the school year.”

“But they can’t be a mage. Remember that.”

“Are you sure? It would be easier to explain some things to a mage.”

“But harder to explain others.” Call shakes his head. “Anyway I’m not gonna be able to tell the complete truth, but with a regular therapist I’d be able to be more open about some things. You know, stretch the truth without fearing that they will connect dots and get suspicious of me being Constantine.”

“Okay.” Alastair says, and for a moment, he looks unsure, but then he hugs him. Call hugs back quickly, not wanting his father to think the contact isn’t welcome, especially when both of them have never been the touchy-feely type with one another.

“I love you, dad.”

“Love you too, Call.” Alastair says, and lets go. “Now, I believe it’s time I go back to North Carolina.”

“Wait. One more thing.”

Alastair looks at him, expectant.

“Uhm,” Call says, not sure how to begin. Not sure he wants to begin at all. “When you were my age, you must have visited Constantine and Jericho a lot, right? Because you were good friends.”

Alastair blinks at him. “Not so much, because they used to spend the summers at New Orleans, but a few times, yes.”

Call thinks of Anastasia, who had visited him in the infirmary the day before. He had meant to confront her then, as bad an idea as that would have been, but he hadn’t had the guts to do it, and she hadn’t said anything either.

Would she ever say anything, if Call didn’t push the issue? It seemed unlikely that both would be able to keep the pretense forever, given his luck. There would come a time when they’d have to talk.

And when that time came, Call didn’t want to keep it hush hush and go behind his father’s back. So many things could have been avoided if they’d just been truthful with each other last summer.

He sighs, preparing himself for a conversation that might end up becoming a train wreck.

“Did you have time to talk to Anastasia while I was out cold?”

Alastair looks bewildered at the turn in the conversation, but answers: “A little.”

“Did she seem familiar to you?”

Alastair frowns. “Familiar?” He thinks about it. “No, I’m afraid I hadn’t met her before.”

“Well,” He says, taking a deep breath. “There’s something you should know about her.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: If anyone had bothered to do an autopsy on Master Joseph's body, they would have determined that the cause of death was head injury, and that the slash in his throat was made post-mortem. But that's a secret between us and Anastasia.
> 
> Thank's for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as agarotado27dejunho, be it to discuss anything Magisterium related or just say "Hi!"


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